Fires of the Deimos: The Doctor and Chris Dawkins
by thedoctorsfaithfulcompanion
Summary: After his previous adventure with the Doctor, Chris Dawkins now finds himself on a spaceship in the future. But a plague is spreading aboard, and the Doctor and Chris have to make a choice: save the ship or let destiny run its course. Sequel to "Solace"
1. Prologue

Prologue

Captain Tak O'Hart's nano-collar glowed white as he came close to the bridge door. With a beep, the door slid open and the Captain strode aboard. As always, fifty bridge officers were hard at work, controlling every element of life aboard the world-ship _Sun Servant_. From the humidity levels on the agricultural level to the water temperature in the fisheries of level 89, each thing crucial to survival aboard the _Sun Servant_ had a member of bridge staff in charge of it. And Captain O'Hart was in charge of them. And right now, he felt in need of a huge cup of synthcaf. As he entered the bridge, the officers saluted from their seats.

"Alright," he said, his voice grated with sleep. "What was so important that you had to wake me up?"

Technical Officer Boros Bullon stood up. He stepped forward. He was not as big a man as his name might suggest, but was an acutely intelligent man. He was in charge of maintaining all technical systems, and every element of the ship eventually came back to him. Such control might have led other men to wickedness, but Boros had a propensity to blushing and shyness. It made O'Hart quite fond of the man.

"Sir," Boros said, "uh, we have something quite unexpected on the sensors?"

"What is it?" O'Hart felt like something unexpected showed up on sensors at least once a day. To the people aboard, everything was unexpected. Descended from scientists, the ship's crew and passengers had a naturally curious disposition that at best made every day a bit more interesting and at worst made constant mountains out of molehills. Chances were that whatever this unexpected thing was, it was hardly important enough to be woken up over.

"Well sir," Boros scratched his nose. "It's a ship…as best we can tell, anyways…"

"A…what…a ship? A ship," O'Hart shook his head. "Impossible. We're lightyears away from established settlements or shipping lanes. It can't be a ship."

"Well, strictly speaking, you're right," said Boros. "It's a box. But a box out here…"

"Must have something in it, yes," O'Hart said. "Alright then, pull it on board. Hangar 6."

"Will do sir," Boros saluted.

"And send a team to meet me there. Security Clearance 6, at least."

"Yes, sir," Boros saluted again, then ran to follow orders.

O'Hart turned and left the bridge. Following a hall, he came to a Quick Travel Tube. "Hangar 6," he spoke, his nanocollar glowed and he stepped inside the tube. Suddenly, he felt warm, and a tingle ran up his body. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was in the hangar. On a ship as massive as the _Sun Servant_, Quick Travel Tubes were the only reliable way of moving about. He stepped off, feeling the slight looseness in his muscles that always came about after QT, a side-effect that the near-middle-aged man was more than happy with. He rolled his neck and strode forward.

He was not sure what he had been expecting, but the blue wooden box being guided through the energy-field was not it. As it was settled onto the ground and the rest of his team appeared from QT Tubes, he moved towards it.

"Scan," he said, and his collar glowed. A computerized voice emitted from it.

"Box unknown, technology unknown," it said. "No dangerous radiation detected, no dangerous microbial life detected, no dangerous virus' detected. Interior unscannable."

"Alright, team," he said, and the ten people Boros had sent arrayed themselves behind him. "Commands at the ready. The ship defends itself, but we may need to give it a nudge."

He strode forward and placed hid hand on the wood. It was oddly warm and, insanely, it seemed to _breath_, like it was alive. O'Hart swallowed. He placed his hand on the handle of the door. The words on the adjacent door were in a language he didn't know. He gripped and pushed. And found it locked. He tried again.

"Door is locked," he said. "Request: laser cutter."

He held out his hand and his collar glowed again. Suddenly, a device flew from a QT Tube and landed in his hand, a stout tube. He pressed it's red-diode tip against the door and pressed a white button on its side. And was blown backwards, the device shattering. The door, however, seemed unfazed.

"Impossible," he said.

Suddenly, the room went silent. O'Hart stood, feeling a tension that could be cut with a knife. He swallowed.

"What are you," he whispered. Suddenly, the door opened. O'Hart jumped backwards as a man strode out.

"Oh," said the man. "Me?" The man grinned. "I'm the Doctor."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: World Turtle

Chris Dawkins felt the chill that rolled into the TARDIS through the open door. The TARDIS interior was perpetually warm, but Chris thought that he would rapidly regret wearing only checkered shorts and a T-shirt. He didn't much care, though, as he had other, far more important things on his mind. Getting off the TARDIS and distracting himself would do some good. Maybe then he wouldn't have to think about who and what he was; about how his childhood best friend had become a monster; how Liz, a girl he barely knew but felt so close to, was nothing more than some type of organic robot sent to spy on him. Or, most importantly, how he had been thrown into a game of life-and-death manipulated by a mad man. The Cloister Bell Games.

What he saw when he stepped off the TARDIS on Amy and Rory's heels was exactly what he had been expecting. A huge room, easily two storeys tall and as large as a proper football pitch, made of gleaming white metal, and speckled with flashing lights, gold trim and glowing red panels. The room was empty of any vehicles besides the TARDIS, which confused Chris, as the Doctor had suggested a hangar bay.

Aside from the Doctor, Amy and Rory, there were eleven other people in the room. They wore uniform jumpsuits of gold-and-white, and each had a thin silver collar around their necks. The one in the front had a symbol on either shoulder, some sort of insignia of rank. None appeared to have weapons, which was peculiar considering the method of this meeting. Chris cleared his throat.

"It's smaller on the inside," he said.

"Ponds, Chris," the Doctor smiled. "This man right here has introduced himself as Captain O'Hart of the _Sun Servant_. I assume that this ship is the _Sun Servant_, yeah?"

"You'd be correct," answered O'Hart. "The greatest ship ever built. A world ship, the size of a small planet, with more than a million passengers and enough facilities to maintain itself indefinitely."

"Brilliant," the Doctor smiled. "Brilliant. Never heard of it, but still brilliant. If you don't mind me asking, though, what are you doing in this area of space? No one's supposed to be here for, oh a few hundred years."

"We could very well ask you the same thing," said the Captain. "Your vessel hardly seems…space-worthy, let alone large enough for four people to travel in."

"It's surprisingly roomy," the Doctor said. "Captain, I'd like to introduce Amy and Rory Pond and Chris Dawkins. We're sort of…tourists, I guess you could say. Interesting neckwear. Very…shiny."

"Nano-collars," the Captain said. "They allow us to control the functions of the ship without need of control panels."

"Each nano-collar is specifically tuned to it's wearer, offering specific permissions based on a person's rank," said one of the other people, a young woman with ashy-blonde hair and a spattering of freckles across her nose. "They also administer automatic doses of specific nanobots, tuned to each person's natural psychic field, enabling non-vocal control for basic functions, like opening doors."

"Amazing what humans will do for the sake of a little convenience," the Doctor grinned. Chris frowned. The Doctor seemed to non-chalant for his liking, considering less than an hour earlier, a madman had hijacked the TARDIS' controls and admitted his plans to murder them both in a series of challenges.

"The ship defends itself," the Captain spoke. "Now, might I ask what that box is?"

"It's a box," said the Doctor. "More specifically, a blue box. Even more specifically, a blue police box. Technically speaking."

"But what is it," asked the blonde woman. "It blew up a laser cutter…but it's just wood."

"Well you shouldn't have taken a laser cutter to it," the Doctor said. "So…big ship."

"The biggest," said the Captain. "Let it never be said that Captain Tak O'Hart wasn't hospitable. We'll take you on the tour, then send you on your way. Tomorrow, if you like. But we have a very specific way of doing things. An exact number of people at all times. We weren't expecting visitors."

"Why is that," asked Amy.

"Because we don't want any," the Captain answered. "We separated from the great human empires long ago. We'd like to just be left alone."

"Oh, wars being fought across the galaxy, humans killing humans," said the Doctor, "rising above it all is admirable."

"We've been above it all for almost two thousand years," said the Captain. "Follow me. Team, report to your designated monitoring stations."

The team snapped to attention, saluted, then ran off to various tubes in the walls. Each spoke a destination…and then vanished.

"Teleportation panels," the Doctor said. The Captain shook his head.

"No," he said, "they're more matter-disassociation devices. They break down a person's atoms and move them at light speed across the ship."

"Sounds dangerous," said Rory.

"Really quite safe," said the Captain, "might make you a tad dizzy the first time, but after that it feels good. Ship, grant temporary clearance, level 4, to these three."

The Captain's collar glowed.

"Pretty," said the Doctor. "You said you haven't been associated with human empires for 2000 years. This ship is not nearly that old…"

"No," said the Captain, "this ship is six months old. Before that, we were on our homeworld. The Lady of Fire, she was called. Sunpoint. But…there was an emergency. We had to leave."

"Tell us all about it while you show us around," said the Doctor. "A ship this size, moving slower than light…must be amazing. Odd that I've never heard of it…" At that, he wrinkled his brow. "Quite odd, in fact. Anyways, off we go, yeah?"

The Captain nodded. "Alright, yes. Get in a tube and say Observation Deck. The computer has given you temporary control permissions without the need of a nano-collar. We'll meet you there. If you try to go anywhere else without my permission, you'll be sent straight to the Detention Level."

"Understood," Chris gave a lazy salute and wandered ahead to one of the tubes. "Allons-y. Observation Deck."

At first, there was an inrush of air near his feet. Then there was a warmth. He shut his eyes and heard a buzz. When he opened them, he was in a new room. Slightly dizzy, he took a moment to get his bearings. The room was a semi-circle, with rounded walls giving it the appearance of a quarter-dome. There was a long row of seats that sprouted in a crescent from the ground like they were grown. The walls, floor and chairs were all a black metal, save for the wall behind him, which was entirely covered in Quick Transfer Tubes. All in all, the room was plain, albeit quite comfortable. The air was warm and smelt slightly of old wood.

As he gauged the room, the others suddenly sprang from other tubes along the wall. Rory and Amy seemed to be in a similar state as himself, catching their breath and getting their heads straight. The Doctor, however, walked around the room non-chalantly.

"Not much of an observation deck," he said. "No windows."

The Captain grinned. "Who needs windows when you have this. Observation deck, clear."

The Captain's nano-collar glowed, and the entire room seemed to fade away so that they appeared to be standing in midair. Or rather, mid-space. The area all around them was stars for as far as they could turn. Even the QT Tubes seemed to be gone. Beneath them and behind them, however, the ship itself stretched away, all black-and-silver metal, curving to a horizon. It truly was as big as a planet.

"Wow," Rory said.

"Yeah," Chris agreed, "yeah, that."

The Doctor was grinning like a fool. "Oh, clearsteel. Brilliant, you know that?"

"I do," said the Captain. "Took our scientists years to get this much, but they got it."

"Clearsteel?" Amy raised an eyebrow.

"Simple alloy," the Doctor said. "Disappears when an electrical charge is run through it. Fun at parties. Very rare, though." The Doctor spun. "Your ship. What's it's design."

"It's a Class 1 World Ship," the Captain said. "Rather, THE Class 1 World Ship. Only one. Some of the crew nicknamed it the Turtle Class."

"Why is that," asked the Doctor.

"I'll show you," the Captain said. "Hologram: Basic ship exterior schematics."

Suddenly, an image appeared in the middle of the room. It was the ship: huge, rounded and distinctly turtle-like. A front portion jutted out like a head, and four legs grew from points around the main shell.

"The stabilizers are each a separate engine control," the Captain explained. "Each capable of being shifted along the radiation streams that we use to generate power. It looks like swimming. The bridge and most of the crew quarters are up in the head. Everything else, agriculture, entertainment, cryogenics, that's all in the shell."

"Cryogenics," the Doctor asked.

"What, you don't think we're everyone, do you," the Captain asked. "There are a total of three million people aboard this ship. At any one time, one million are awake. The other two million are cryogenically frozen. We take two year shifts, or will. At the end of our two years, second shift will wake up and we'll go to sleep. By the end of the third shift, we expect to have reached Haven."

"Haven," the Doctor asked. "What is Haven?"

"It'll be our new home," the Captain explained. "One day. The land of solace and solitude."

A chill ran up Chris' spine. He shared a glance with the Doctor. "Why don't you show us the rest of the ship?" Chris needed the distraction.

"The grand tour," the Captain agreed. "Computer, observation deck to agricultural level."

And the pod dropped.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Grand Tour

They fell through blackness for only a second, but it was long enough for Chris to grab one of the chairs and seat himself. When the observation deck stopped, they were overlooking what appeared to be a vast outdoor area of rolling hills, covered in fields, gardens and orchards. There was even a sky, and Chris could see machines rolling through the fields.

"This is the Agricultural portion of the ship," the Captain explained. "Most of our diet is grown right here. We imitate seasons through self-stabilized weather mapping. Right now it's late summer. We'll be harvesting soon."

"And who works the fields," asked the Doctor.

"Robot drones do most of the actual labor," answered the Captain. "Actual humans are in charge of driving vehicles, as well as the upkeep of drones and planning. In theory, the whole thing could be fully automated, but our people are descended from scientists. Many of the people who have volunteered for the Agricultural duties are actually experimenting with the food or with the drones. A week ago, one of them genetically modified an apple to produce enough protein to cover a person's daily value. Our vegetarians were thankful."

"You're descended from scientists," Chris asked.

The Captain nodded. "And most of us still are, in one way or another. Back at the start of the vast human expansion, Earth scientists detected a planet on the edge of the galaxy. It had a unique orbit: its year lasted 1000 Earth years. During nine hundred of those years, it was a tropical paradise of unique life, ripe for study. For the other hundred years, or summertime, as we call it, the planet came too close to the sun and all life was burned off the surface. When summer was over, life would reestablish itself and regrow. Our ancestors were sent to study the process. Two thousand years later, here we are."

The Doctor grinned. "Surviving, as ever. Tell me, why are you here?"

The Captain frowned. "Next part of the tour. Observation deck to Cityscape."

Rather than falling, the observation deck went sideways for quite a distance, before backing into a wall and once again descending. When it came to rest, they had passed through the ground of the Agricultural level into what appeared to be a vast megacity of huge buildings. All of the skyscrapers (or ceilingscrapers, Chris supposed) were flowing, rounded constructs of gold, silver and red. Chris could see people moving about far below, floating vehicles progressing through the streets.

"The Cityscape," said the Captain. "All civilian passengers live here. About 900,000 at any one time, give or take. That's discounting births and deaths, of course."

"A lot of people to have on a ship," dug the Doctor.

"We're looking for Haven," said the Captain. "The ship can't sustain us forever."

"No, I don't suppose it could," said the Doctor. "Are there little shops and things down there?"

"Of a sort," said the Captain. "We don't use currency. You take what you need. The nano-collars track it all, so that we know what people have taken, just in case, but it means that crimes of all sorts are pretty much unheard of. Our security don't even carry weapons. The ship defends itself."

"So you've said," said the Doctor. "It's brilliant, though. Very, very human. I love it. Your world's dying, so you build a big old ship and gather everyone onboard, and build cities and farms and factories and all sorts of things, all for the promise of a world far away. All for some small hope. Oh, very good. Very, very good."

The Captain frowned. "Whoever said our world is dying?"

"Dead or dying," the Doctor said. "No one said anything, but isn't it obvious?"

"He's right," said Chris. "It is. There's really no other reason for all of this. Even human curiosity doesn't lead to world turtles."

The Captain sighed. "No, I suppose not."

"What happened," asked Amy.

"The scientists were wrong," said the Captain. "The original ones. They thought our world's orbit was a strange ellipsis with one side very close to the sun. It wasn't. It was a spiral, getting ever closer. Closer and closer until…"

"It couldn't hold out against the sun's gravity and fell right in," the Doctor said.

The Captain nodded. "We figured it out at the end of the last summer. We had 900 years to prepare. The original plan was to build 6 worldships. Enough for the entire population of Sunpoint. But the scientists hadn't taken into account a bit of math…we had less than 900 years. We had only 800. That last 100 years was all the difference. This ship was a test…a prototype. They were going to build the other 5 over the last one hundred years. But then Sunpoint started falling…"

"So you bustled as many people as you could onto the _Sun Servant_," the Doctor said. "You saved them."

"I saved them," said the Captain. "Me and the other captains. The government was willing to test fate, to press it to the last second. We weren't. We watched as Sunpoint burned as it had never burned before…and we flew away.

"You did what you had to," the Doctor said.

"That's exactly the point," smiled the Captain. "While some might sleep at night and have nightmares of the death of Sunpoint, I go to sleep knowing that I helped saved millions of people from death. It helps me every second of every day, knowing that. And six months later, everything is going fantastic. No major emergencies. Just boredom. Even the hospital level is practically empty."

The Doctor grinned. "You have no idea how much I'd like to see that," he said, turning to the others. "Do you understand the significance. These people grew completely divergent from the rest of mankind. Their technology is entirely unique. And the best way to gauge an areas technology is by looking at their medicine."

"You are such a nerd," said Amy.

"Oh, you have no idea," the Doctor grinned. "Take us to the hospital level!"

"You'll have to use the QT Tubes for that," said the Captain. Suddenly, his collar glowed and spoke.

"Captain, can you come to the bridge please," a voice said. "We need command prompts for stream release on left leg alpha."

The Captain touched the collar. "Be right there," he walked over to the QT Tube and stepped in. He looked at the group. "Feel free to head down to the Hospital level. I'm sure Doctor Morbus will be glad for the company. He's gone through more puzzles than we have. Command bridge."

The Captain faded away and they all blinked. "Well then," said the Doctor. "Down to the hospital level to meet this Morbus. Anyone?"

"I, for one, am not going to wander around this ship alone," said Rory. "I'm with you."

"I am too," said Amy, "as always."

"Geronimo," Chris said simply. The Doctor chuckled.

They each stepped into a tube and spoke.

"Hospital level."


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Doctor Morbus

As the stepped out of the QT tubes, the first thing they noticed was how small the room was, in comparison to the rest of what they had seen. There were only ten beds, each sitting next to a small, gold-white box. Lights above each bed hovered with anti-gravity technology. Doors at the opposite end of the room apparently opened into an operating room, according to a small panel above the door.

The second thing they noticed was Doctor Morbus. He was laying on one of the beds, an electronic tablet held before him. He had dark hair, kept as tidy as his trim goatee. He looked almost too young to be a doctor, with a perfectly unlined face. But those were not his defining features. The most important things about him were his legs. Covered in coarse red hair and ending in hoofs, he had his legs crossed before him, casually tapping one hoof to an inaudible beat. Chris swallowed. One word popped into his head: satyr.

"What is he," Amy whispered.

"Human," said the Doctor. "But genetically modified. A race of scientists. Eventually they're going to experiment on themselves…and their children."

They walked to the edge of the bed. Just before any of them spoke, the reclining doctor raised a finger to tell them to wait, tapped the screen a few times, and then set it down on the bed next to him while swinging his hoofs down. He looked up to them and grinned devilishly.

"I suppose that you are the newcomers from the box," he said.

"That we are," said the Doctor. "I suppose you know everyone on the ship, easy guess to make…"

"Hardly," said Morbus. "I never get patients. Everyone is so damned careful, and we pretty much have diseases under control. Maybe the occasional batch of bad shellfish might send a few people down for a night of vomiting, but other than that…" He held out a hand. "Doctor Benjamin Morbus."

The Doctor shook it. "Pleased to meet you. I'm the Doctor, and these are Amy, Rory and Chris Dawkins. Well, rather, Amy and Rory Pond…"

"Williams," Rory interjected.

"And Chris Dawkins. They're not all Dawkinses. Only one of him."

"Probably," Chris said petulantly.

"Excellent," Morbus said. "As to how I knew, I'm technically command staff. Head of Medical Technologies." He tapped his collar. "All command staff were alerted."

"Ah," said the Doctor. "Well, that's less interesting." The doctor glanced at the screen laying on the bed. "Crosswords? You're doing crosswords."

"Yes," said Morbus. "I ran out of sudoku three months ago, and Deiman, English, French and German crosswords one month ago. I'm onto Japanese now."

"That's not Japanese," Chris said.

"Telepathic field from the TARDIS translates everything, try to keep up," said the Doctor. "What do you mean 'ran out'?"

"I no longer have any," said Morbus. "I did them all."

"All of them," the Doctor said. "Every crossword and sudoku from 5000 of humanity?"

"Every Deiman, English, French and German one, yes."

"Your parents didn't just change your legs, did they?"

"Pleased you noticed," the faunish doctor grinned. "They started with my brain, and just took things a step too far in the genetic modification department, I'm afraid. They were ever so fond of stupid old Earth mythology. At the very least they could have given me wings or made me amphibious or something useful."

"How can you just finish every crossword," Rory said. "There must be millions."

"Billions," said Morbus. "I'm a reversely eidetic being. Most creatures have some form of genetic memory: migration patterns, for example. My parents programmed me with all information ingrained straight into my generic code."

"He doesn't actually remember or know it," said the Doctor. "He couldn't just spew out facts. If he actually knew he knew it, his head would explode."

"Exactly," said Morbus. "But, if you were to ask me any given question, I could answer it correctly. Makes crosswords extremely easy."

"Ah," Rory said. "Well, I guess…I guess that explains that then."

"Now, we've explained me," said Morbus, "but what are you, Doctor? These two," he nodded at Amy and Rory, "they're human. But…I don't know what you and this one are. You were scanned when you walked in and…well, we don't have your kind in our records."

"Oh, I'm certain you know exactly what I am," the Doctor strode forward and leaned in close to Morbus, studying his face. "What secrets are trapped up in your head…well, it makes a man wonder, doesn't it."

The Doctor shot straight and turned on his heels. "Alright then," he said, "let us see the surgery…"

Before the Doctor could get to the doors, however, there was a hum and a man walked into the room from the QT tube. He was a moderate size man with short cropped hair and a thin suggestion of a beard. He had a thin nose and wide, innocent-looking eyes.

"Technical Officer Bullon," Morbus said, standing. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's not a planned visit, unfortunately," the man said. "I'm feeling a tad under the weather."

"Best news I've heard all day," Morbus grinned. "Choose a bed and sit on up." Morbus shifted his head and looked at the others. "Stay or go, up to you."

Meanwhile, the man was climbing up onto a bed and kicking off his boots, so that his toes, firmly encased in purple wool socks, could wriggle freely. "I have a bit of a fever," he said. "Collar told me. And my stomach feel hot."

"Mmm," said Morbus, eyebrows knitting as he walked about. "Scan."

A green light shone from somewhere in the ceiling and surrounded Bullon. Obviously, the information was somehow relayed to Morbus, because he coughed and grinned.

"Well, luckily for you it isn't a known virus or anything wicked," he said, "so it was probably just bad fish. But your fever is climbing a bit, so it'd be best if you stay here and keep me company for a bit."

"Sounds alright to me," said Bullon. The Doctor, however, strode forward, frowning. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the man. A moment later, he looked at it, still frowning.

"It's not bad fish," he said. "Fish doesn't make a fever climb like that."

"What do you mean," Morbus said. "His fever isn't anything to worry about."

"Check again."

Morbus strode forward. "I know what I'm doing."

"I'm sure you do," said the Doctor. "Check again."

Morbus stared at the Doctor for a moment, and a flash of stubborn will crossed his eyes, but then he turned. "Scan."

A moment later, his eyes went wide. "Scan," he repeated. Then again. "Sc-scan."

"What is it," Bullon said, obviously worried.

"That can't be right," said Morbus. "A glitch. It must be."

"What is it," Amy asked.

"His temperature has jumped seven degrees. Seven degrees in thirty seconds."

"And is still climbing," the Doctor said.

"What do you mean," asked Bullon. "What is going on?"

"I don't know," said Morbus.

Chris strode forward. "I do. James is going on."

"What," Bullon said. "Who is James? What are you talking about?"

"He's talking about a very bad man," said the Doctor. "He's talking about plague."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Plague Winds

"Plague," said Morbus. He blinked slowly. Once. Twice. Then he chuckled. "Impossible. We have every known disease…"

"Kept under control," said the Doctor. "Cured, or held back, or telepathically controlled via pseudo-living nano-technology. But what about unknown diseases. New diseases."

"We are all kept on a controlled diet," answered Morbus. "We have strict vitamin regimens kept in sync with the nano-collars. We are screened for bacteria and viruses every time we walk through a door or take a QT tube. Anything foreign would have been detected."

"Anything foreign," the Doctor hummed. "I assure you, this is a plague. Listen to me or not, but in the next half hour, you will have another patient. Then another. And another. Is this ward big enough for a million people?"

Morbus frowned. "I hardly think that is your worry, Doctor."

"It most certainly is my worry," said the Doctor. "Everything is my worry. Every little problem across all of space and time. Now then, Bullon, what is your first name?"

"Why do you want to know," Bullon hissed. The Doctor raised his eyebrows. Bullon shook his head and frowned. "I'm…I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from. Boros, sir. Boros Bullon."

"Well, Boros," said the Doctor. "Good to meet you. I'm the Doctor. Do you mind if I touch you?"

"Um," said Boros, frowning. "N-not at all, I suppose."

"Good." The Doctor reached out at touched the man's face with both hands. He frowned. "Hmm. Chris, can you please give me a run down on Boros. Your Christopher-y thing."

"Uh, yeah," Chris swallowed and looked the man up and down. "30 years old, give or take a year or two. About five foot eight. Average weight, average build. Coloring suggests that he works behind a monitor and has never known menial labor…"

"He's a tech officer," Morbus said. "We all know him…"

"He's getting to the good bit, don't interrupt," said Amy.

"Chafing around colour suggests it is new and hasn't worn down to comfortable edges yet. Newly woken up from cryogenic freezing perhaps? Chews his fingernails, as suggested by slight redness and swelling around cuticles. Nervous tic. Dry skin, but lack of acne suggests that that is new, and that he keeps himself clean otherwise. Lack of sweat despite fever. That means that the dry skin is symptomatic. Not the eye movement. Aside from the natural and worried tic of glancing from stranger to stranger, lingering glances on Amy, theirs is a slight shake and an unnaturally quick but almost unnoticeable dilation of the pupils between each movement. All suggestions of increased aggression or testosterone levels, which would match up with the profile of nervousness and uncharacteristic outburst a moment ago."

"Conclusions," said the Doctor.

"The disease is affecting brain chemicals," said Chris. "Perhaps the fever is secondary."

"No," said the Doctor. "His skin is dry but….hmm."

"It's hardened," said the Doctor. "Thicker than usual."

"What did you mean, 'lingering glances on Amy'," Rory interjected.

"Yeah," said Amy.

"She's got legs up to here," Chris said offhandedly. He continued on distractedly. "Increased testosterone would increase sexual desire. Amy is the nearest target."

Boros coughed uncomfortably. Chris frowned. "The problem is that I can't determine anything that sets him apart from anyone else."

"That's because there isn't anything," the Doctor stood straight. "We need to talk to the Captain. We need to warn him now."

Before the Doctor could turn however, the QT tubes buzzed twice, and two figures strode into the room. The small hospital was starting to feel very crowded. Morbus frowned.

"Oh gods," he said. "Not you two too."

The two in question were a man and a woman. The woman was middle-aged, but without a fleck of grey in her hair. She was short, round and a tad droopy, from her eyes to her jowls to her hips. However, she looked kindly and walked with a bounce that suggested she was hearing a tune that no one else could.

The man, on the other hand, was tall, solemn and cold, with flat grey eyes, flat grey hair and flat grey complexion. A spattering of freckles across his nose was all there was to destroy the monotony of his flat face. However, he had a slight curve of the mouth that suggested that he was about to smile, but could not quite convince himself to.

"Rapidly rising fevers, dry skin," Morbus rubbed his temples. "The same thing. Please choose beds while we figure this out."

"Figure what out?" The woman's voice was solid as a rock, quite unlike her droopy appearance.

"Nothing," said Morbus, shaking his head. "Just some bad shellfish. Doctor?"

The Doctor nodded and the two went off to one side and whispered together. Chris, Amy and Rorystood uncomfortably to one side, while the patients sat on their beds.

"I don't like it when the Doctor whispers," said Rory. "That's never a good sign."

Amy raised her eyebrows. "How about when…no, wait, you're right. It's never a good sign."

The Doctor came back to them. "To the bridge. We need to talk to the Captain. The doctor and myself have decided that perhaps it would be best if we…kept this under wraps…for now. At least. Except between us. And Boros. And Morbus. And the Captain. So, in conclusion, secret, except for the above exceptions."

"You complicate things," Chris said.

"And you have two personalities, but I don't point that little flaw out," the Doctor said. Chris frowned, and the Doctor chuckled.

"Away we go," the Doctor spun around towards the QT tube, but Morbus interrupted him.

"Wait, Doctor," the goatish doctor said, "you don't have permission levels for the bridge."

"Don't worry," the Doctor grinned, pulling out his screwdriver. "I have sonic."

Morbus looked at the Doctor quizzically. A moment later, though, the Doctor was buzzing away. As Chris and Amy followed, Rory turned and shrugged.

"The Doctor is the Doctor," he said. "You get used to it."

"Really," asked Morbus.

"Not even a little."

When Rory caught up to the others, they were in a long silver hall leading to a single door at the end.

"The throat of the turtle," said the Doctor. He pointed to almost-invisible creases in the ceiling and walls. "The ship defends itself. Defense system's hidden in case of a general outbreak or revolt. Bridge staff will be safe, everyone else…"

"Trapped away," said Chris.

"Hardly trapped," said the Doctor. "The ship is the size of a planet. They just won't gain control."

They began walking down the hall. Chris felt uncomfortable, aware of all those creases. "Won't they…uh…"

"The defenses are activated in the bridge, I'd guess," said the Doctor. "And the bridge doesn't even know we're here. Even if they do, who would hurt little old me."

"Daleks," said Amy, "Cybermen…"

"Autons…"

"Atraxi…"

"Silurians…"

"Sontarans…"

"Those green guys from Galashaianaia IV…."

"The Frell?"

"Frall?"

"Frilan," said the Doctor. "Point taken. You can quit listing things."

They reached the door. The Doctor lifted his sonic and a moment later, the door opened. The Doctor strode in, and the others followed on his heels.

"Captain O'Hart," said the Doctor. "Loving the bridge. Very blinky. And big. Have to love big. Look at the view. Panoramic."

"Doctor," the Captain turned from his post at the end of the central aisle of the bridge. "How in the gods' names did you get on my bridge?"

"Just popped up from the hospital wing," the Doctor said, walking over to the nearest officer and peering over his shoulder at the monitor. "Morbus is interesting."

"Yeah, he's a regular card," said O'hart. "Now then. How did you get on my bridge?"

"Bigger issues here, Cap," said the Doctor. "You have to focus."

"What issues," said the Captain. "And how. Did. You. Get on my bridge?"

"Illness," said the Doctor, standing up. "There's a disease on board. Or we think there is. A new one. One you folks don't know about."

"Impossible," said the Captain. "Quartermaster Smythe, explain."

A tiny woman of indeterminate age stood. "All of the lives upon this ship are constantly monitored, even bacterial life. Even viruses. All of our food is treated with anti-bacterial vitamin compounds. Each shower a person takes, they are washed with a counter-viral spray. And, as a last defense, the nano-bots in their blood will fight off foreign compounds. As quartermaster, I know where each speck of our food comes from. I know where all our materials comes from, how it is processed, and how it is used. There can't be a new, foreign disease on board. We would have caught it."

"There's that word, foreign," said the Doctor, frowning.

"That's all well and good," said Chris. "But the evidence suggests otherwise."

"There are three sick people in the hospital right now," said the Doctor. "Maybe more. All with the same symptoms. I suggest, you come and take a look before deeming it impossible."

The Captain frowned. "Alright," he said. "Alright. I'm coming. Let's go see whether your plague winds are just hot air."


End file.
